Tombstone epitaph., 1887-10-01
FORGIVENESS.

FORGIVENESS.
 She had been brought mp in one of those families that live shut up in themselves and that always seem out of the way of everything. They know nothing about political events, notwithstanding they talk about them at table; for them changes in the government are matters which take place at such distance, that they can only be spoken of as historical facts--like the death of Louis XVI, or the disembarking of Napoleon.
 The Savignols married their daughter Berthe at the age of IS. She married a young man from Paris, named Georges Baron, who was connected with the Ex- change. He was handsome fellow, talked well, had an exterior manner in all respects calculated to inspire confidence; but within himself, he made fun of his old fashioned parents-in-law, whom he spoke of to his friends as ''My dear fossils"
 He belonged to good family; and his young wife was rich. He took her to Paris to live.
 Then she became one of that peculiar provincial class so numerous in the me- tropolis. She remained totally ignorant of the great city-ignorant of its fashion able society, it's pleasures and its ways just as she had always remained ignorant of life and its perfldies and its mysteries.
 Always shut up in her own household, she knew little of any street except her own, and if she ever ventured into another quarter it seemed to her like a long voyage to some foreign and unfamiliar city. She would say, in the evening:
 ''I crossed the boulevards today"
 Two or three times year her husband took her to the theatre. These rare amusements were great events for her, which she never forgot the impression of, and was always talking about.
 Sometimes three months afterward she would suddenly burst out laughing at table, and cry out:
 Don't you remember that actor in the generals uniform who crowed like 8 cockY"
 All her acquaintances were limited to two families distantly related to her own, and these two families represented all she knew of humanity. She always spoke of them as ''the Martinets'' and "the Michelints
 Her husband lived as he pleased, coming home just when 1t suited him, sometimes at daylight, always with the pretext of having been very busy; never bothering himself much, however, to find excuses, so certain did he feel that no sus- picion could ever enter the candid mind of his wife.
 But one morning she received an anony- nous letter.
 She remained for the moment thunder struck, being too upright of heart to com prehend the infamy of denunciations, to despise the missive whose author pretend ed to be inspired by a wish for her happi- ness, by the hatred of evil, and by the love of truth.
 It was thus revealed to her that her husband had for two years been intimate with @ young widow, Mime. Rosset, and used to pass all his evenings with her.
 She did not know how to dissimulate, or to feign, or to spy, or to lay plans When he came home to breakfast, she simply threw down the letter before him, and fled sobbing to her room. He had ample time to understand, to prepare his answer; and, having done SO, he went and knocked at his wife's door. She opened 1t at once, with her eyes down, not daring to look at him. He smiled, sat down, took her on his lap; and then in Q gentle, half mischievous tone, he said:
 My little darling, it is true that Mme Rosset is friend of mine; have known her for ten years and think very highly of her; and may also tell you that l know twenty other families whom have never talked to you about-simply because know you don't care about so- ciety and receptions and introductions, and all that sort of thing. But now, in order to make an end of all these infa- nous denunciations, beg you will be good enough to dress yourself immediate ly after breakfast, and let us make a visit together to this young lady; am sure you will become good friends right off," She hugged and kissed her husband; and, moved by that feminine curiosity which, once aroused, Is not easily put to sleep again, she did not even refuse to pay Q visit to this unknown woman, of whom she could not help still feeling little suspicious. She felt instinctively that @ danger, once known, is half averted.
 She entered pretty little room-full of charming oddities decorated with art-on the fourth floor of fine house. After hve minutes waiting in drawing room shadowed by hangings, draperies and cur tains gracefully arranged door opened, and young woman appeared-very dark, S~~Aes~&t v AAssAO AAASAihCo " OC StOuV-WuO smiled and looked surprised.
 Georges introduced them to each other:
 My wife, Mime. Julie Rosset."
 The young widow uttered little cry ot astonishment and joy, and rushed forward holding out both her hands. She had never hoped, she said, for such good for tune, knowing that madame never re- ceived visitors; but she was SO happy, so delightedl She was so fond of Georges (she called Georges with sisterly familiar ityl that she had always been just crazy to know his little wife, and to be fond of her, too.
 Before month was over the two women had become inseparable friends. They saw each other every day, often twice a day, and dined together every evening, some times at one house, sometimes at the other. Georges now did not absent him. self from home any more-decided his business no longer occupied all his time, and saying that he loved to sit by his own hearth.
 Finally, some apartments being vacant in the house occupied by Mime. Rosset, Mime. Baron at once rented them, so as to be nearer her friend, and more often with her.
 A